


Going Back the Way We Came

by samspoops



Category: Undertale (Video Game)
Genre: Female Frisk, Fluff, Fluff and Angst, Frisk is a Sweetheart, Gen, Genderfluid Frisk, Nonbinary Frisk, POV Frisk, Pacifist Frisk, Post-Pacifist Route, Slice of Life, all around frisk is just very gender 'meh', asriel is alive and i can explain exactly why, bear with me, frisk is like 8, frisk starts as a girl but realizes they are nonbinary, ill try to keep frisk's actions in line with age but I may fail so just, kinda basically just fluff, maybe some fluff and angst, mmm i guess this is slice of life, ok so I said Frisk would turn nonbinary but I think Frisk is somehow both nonbinary and genderfluid, post pacifist run, so expect some immaturity and silliness, so the identity issues can be cropped up to an uneducated youngster not understanding themself, so the pronouns change to accommodate self discovery, take with a grain of salt, the human world
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-12-19
Updated: 2016-06-08
Packaged: 2018-05-07 13:02:16
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 13
Words: 14,285
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5457410
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/samspoops/pseuds/samspoops
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Frisk was young when she fell down Ebbott. Young, neglected, and without family or friends to call home.  Now, she returns from Ebbott with more friends, family, and home than she can fit in her small heart.  But there's something missing, something under the surface of Mount Ebbott and calling her name.  It may be hard to get, but there's one thing she has that most people can't say about themselves.<br/>She has determination.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Sleep and Dreams

It started with how Frisk mused over all she had learned. The musing started when she took Toriel’s hand, allowing herself to be led down the ridge and to the city visible. As tired as she was, Frisk knew that it was important to tell the people about how good the monsters were. She struggled to keep her eyelids open, watching the sun peer over the horizon, seeming reluctant to come or go. 

She understood how the sun felt. Every decision she made, she was unsure if it would be right or wrong. How would she get out of this fight peacefully? Did this monster like being flirted with, or did they take it as a challenge? These were her struggles. Did the sun struggle like that?

Frisk released a yawn without meaning to, her voice squeaking at the back of her throat. Torial clicked her tongue and cooed, murmuring, “Dear child, your journey has been difficult. You must be exhausted. Do you want me to carry you?”

Did she? Frisk imagined falling asleep in Toriel’s arms, the moment she was picked up. Then, she imagined a situation like with what happened to Asriel--carrying the body of his human sibling, the humans believing he was a murderer that killed a child that had probably belonged to someone in that village. Frisk couldn’t risk that repeating, so she pursed her lips and shook her head. “I’m okay.”

“You sure, dear?”

“Yeh.” Despite the agony on her feet, Frisk continued to trudge through the grass under the trees, toward the sun and toward the humans. 

The monsters had all slowed down before they reached the town. They all stood at the edge of the trees. Somehow, Sans and Papyrus had united alongside Undyne, Alphys, and Asgore. Toriel led Frisk to the group, pulling the child and herself to the front to get the best view of the new place. 

“WOWIE!” Papyrus exclaimed. “IT’S EVEN BIGGER UP CLOSE!” 

Undyne grinned wildly, bursting, “Yeah, but not as big as my abs!” 

Alphys started sweating and wringing her hands together, glancing side to side. “Shouldn’t w-we uh, uh, be quiet? T-The humans a-aren’t expecting us….” 

Frisk pictured adults bursting into view, waving bats, pitch forks, and torches, and immediately piped up, “Shhh!” 

Asgore, whispering, murmured, “Frisk is right. Frisk, do you want us to all approach at once, with you in front, or do you want to just go with yourself?” 

Frisk thought about this for a moment, imagining the adults’ reactions. She decided that the least intimidating looking monster around her would go with her. She looked behind her at the tall figures, from looming Asgore to the hunched Alphys and short Sans. Toriel looked the least threatening, naturally, regardless of her height. Frisk squeezed Toriel’s hand and murmured, “Mom can come with me.” 

“M-Mom?” The monsters all made individual, distinct comments, but the way Asgore’s eyes glistened and his breath was audibly caught in his throat, Frisk realized she might have struck a nerve. Frisk didn’t have the strength to apologize, just allowed Toriel to speak. 

“Well, then, child,” Toriel purred, “we will go! You should lead the way. Do you want to hold my hand?” 

Wordlessly, Frisk nodded, still holding Toriel’s hand, and led the big monster forward. Toriel radiated anxiety and excitement, murmuring, “Do you think I should wave? Should I say anything? Can I make myself friendlier by suggesting recipes? Snails can be used in many recipes, do you think they would like to know that?” 

Truthfully, Frisk just shrugged, not sure, herself. After a few steps into the town, a fat, adult human was spotted. He was balding, had dark skin, and wore the dark colors and hat of being an officer. When he caught sight of Frisk and Toriel, he moved to grab something on his hip, but Frisk, fearful, shouted, “It’s okay!” 

The man held his hand over the weapon, a shiny black stick-like thing that Frisk couldn’t remember the word for, and called out, “Dear God, what is that?” 

“My mom.” 

“Is she….is she in a costume?” 

“No, this is her. She looks like this. She’s not human.” 

Shaking his head slowly and in disbelief, the officer twitched his fingers over the weapon. Frisk knew that the region had folktales and legends of monsters and the war between their ancestors, and could only imagine what he was thinking at the moment. He then voiced, “Kid, you look beaten up. Are you safe? You just step away from the….the monster….and I’ll take you back to your parents.” 

What parents? Frisk had lived on the other side of Mount Ebbott before the fall, and lived with a parent that didn’t care about where Frisk was, what Frisk did, and if Frisk was safe. Because of this, Frisk ran into the woods in sadness one night, and found herself with more love than she ever expected to feel in a lifetime. 

“My parents are monsters,” Frisk said. She became aware of her clothes--tattered, stained, loose striped sweater, dirt-caked overalls, frayed hair with twigs, dirt clumps, and leaves protruding out, and mud covered rain boots. The officer was right when he said she looked beaten up, but was wrong to assume she was unsafe with Toriel. “This is my mom. She loves me--she is kind, and soft, and loves me. I’m here to make sure the rest of my family is okay, too. They’re monsters.” 

The officer spoke into his radio, murmuring softly so that Frisk couldn’t hear. Once done, he looked up and asked, “Kid, where are your parents? Your human parents?” 

“Please, sir,” Frisk asked, squeezing Toriel’s fingers tightly. “Please promise that no one will hurt my family. The stories about the monster war and the monsters in the mountain are all true--but they’re nice, they’re nicer and kinder than anyone I’ve ever met. I brought them up to make them safe and have a new home, a better home, with humans. Please, don’t let anyone hurt my family.” 

It took confusion and cooperation. Several more police officers showed up, Frisk had Toriel offer some mature insight into the situation, local officials showed up, a crowd gathered, and Frisk and Toriel spoke well past the morning about needing homes. They were eventually led to a big, roomy, empty cabin in the woods, owned by the mayor who offered it out of kindness--or the need to get on a big, intimidating monster’s good side--where they were when they called the others and informed them of the news. 

The housing would be temporary, but it was enough for all the monsters to sleep. Undyne kept guard while everyone slept soundly, and Papyrus would take the next shift. 

Frisk found herself on a roomy bed, tucked under soft covers by Toriel’s big, soft hands. Toriel hadn’t even backed away before Frisk was taken by the warmth of sleep and dreams.


	2. Change

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The humans and monsters meet to discuss living situations, and Frisk performs her first act as ambassador. I daresay she was successful.

“And that is a stupid idea, because it’s dumb,” Frisk confessed to the committee of adults. They all gasped, some in amusement with giggles, some in pure surprise, some in offense, and some in emotions that Frisk was unfamiliar with. 

“And why is that _dumb_?” One man asked slowly, but not condescendingly. He seemed to want a specific answer from Frisk. 

Still holding Toriel’s hand for support, Toriel, Undyne, Asgore, and Alphys each in seats facing humans in similar seats, Frisk explained, “It’s dumb because I remember being taught about segregation, and segregation was wrong for humans with skin, why is it okay for monsters? Monsters can’t help having horns more than humans help having skin. Also, some monsters don’t have skin. I know _two_ skeletons. That’s a lot more than you know.” 

The committee members all looked side to side. The monsters to Frisk’s sides beamed with pride, and Asgore personally patted Frisk’s head. Frisk’s cheeks grew warm and her chest puffed out. She was wearing a tee with a yellow flower on it, and shorts, given to her by the human adults that decided she needed new clothes. Toriel had asked for several pairs of everything, to make sure Frisk was okay, but these clothes were just given to Frisk for this initial meeting, to figure out if she was deemed mature enough to be an ambassador. Whatever that was. 

One woman murmured, “You bring up a fantastic point, F….” 

“Frisk.” 

She could see that the adult didn’t believe her, but that was her name. She picked it, herself. It was hers, and no one else’s--there were always several Samantha’s, Sarah’s, John’s, David’s, and Daniel’s, but there was only one Frisk. 

“Well, Frisk, you are very smart for your age, have you been told that before?” 

“Yeah, and I’m also called pretty, but not as pretty as you.” She winked, and the woman blinked in surprise. Frisk followed that with a quick kiss to the air. 

“A-a-are you…?” the woman was cut off by a man leaning forward. This man had a steely, dark gaze, and seemed like he needed to pet a dog. The man started saying something that Frisk wasn’t paying attention to. She was looking at the woman she had just flabbergasted, and took this chance to whip her still-very-knotted hair to the side. Toriel had done her best, that morning, to comb all the knots, twigs, and leaves out of the child’s unclean hair, but could only do so much with her claws. Alphys mentioned that Mettaton would be a fantastic help, but hadn’t come to the surface yet. No one was, until matters had been sorted out. 

The stern man slapped the desk he sat at, startling Frisk and making her jump. “You should pay attention when someone is speaking to you, especially an adult.” 

“Sorry, sir.” 

“As I was saying--well, what do you _think_ I was saying? _Frisk_ , if that is your real name?” 

Oops. Frisk blinked, and not in a flirty way. She looked from every adult’s face, noticing varying degrees of anger and sympathy. She felt a knot tighten in her throat, but it was relieved with a gentle hand rubbing her back. Asgore cast her a warm, gentle gaze of support. Frisk took in a deep breath, breathed out, and allowed her shoulders to drop as she said, “I wasn’t listening. I was too distracted by how soothing your voice is.” 

“W-What? Would you stop flirting?” 

“Would you stop being irresistible?” Frisk now batted her eyelashes in a flirty way. The man buried his face in his hands, shoulders shaking as if he was laughing or crying. A man to his side rubbed his shoulder and murmured something. 

“So, Frisk?” that man asked, taking his hand off of his friend’s shoulder. “What do you suggest we manage for monsters, if we want to avoid segregation?” 

Frisk pursed her lips and thoughts. She looked to Asgore and Toriel and asked, “Do you think we can build nice houses somewhere? If there is a good place?” 

Asgore clasped his hands together and said with his baritone voice, “Absolutely!” 

Frisk looked back at the human adults and said, “I propose monsters build houses! They do this wherever there is room, so no half of the town is monster and the other is human! And, and with this, we, uh, we…make businesses! Monsters have a lot of small businesses, like nice cream, and burgers! So monsters make their own income, and, uh, pay taxes.” 

“Monsters will pay taxes?” 

“Citizens pay taxes! Monsters will be citizens, so they do what humans do.” 

“When the monsters build--won’t the construction hamper the lives of human residents, won’t plumbing need to be set up…” 

“Monsters don’t poop! And monsters are fast, there won’t be problems!” 

Toriel blushed, saying, “Well, we can’t promise a seamless construction. Unforseen problems happen, but that’s what the plan is--no problems.” 

Alphys took this chance to say, with a sweaty face and outward crossed eyes, “I have invented a machine to build houses quickly! S-s-see, monsters were immigrating into the center of the kingdom, so I invented boxed houses to make it easier on families! A-a-and, I have enough for monsters! Humans can use them too, if they want! I-I guess I’ll have to install toilets….” 

The human adults looked from one another, then to the monster committee. One woman informed the monsters, “That sounds like a plan. We’ll have to debrief monsters on the laws here, so prevent any misunderstandings and confusion. Until the laws are made evident, law enforcement will be a bit more lenient on things like road safety laws. You do know how to buckle up, right?” 

“We can learn!” Frisk exclaimed. 

So, it was arranged. They were given maps of places where homes could be built, how big those homes could be, and things like that. Frisk stopped paying attention after she stopped being needed. She held Toriel’s hand, thinking of the world Underground. There were still monsters down there, and soon, it would be empty of all but one. She glanced down at her shirt, then up at Toriel and Asgore. Asgore was standing close to Toriel, close enough that Toriel was glaring at him. They had once loved each other very deeply, and their love had made a son--a son they would never see again. A son trapped as a flower. Frisk looked down at the flower on her shirt and felt her eyes start to sting at the thought. She didn’t wish that fate upon anyone--being soulless and alone for eternity. Sure, he tried to kill Frisk several times, but she had seen him change, even if it didn’t last long. Maybe he could change again. Maybe he could change for good, this time.


	3. Something to Give

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Frisk treats herself, then treats others. But what's missing?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry I didn't post it sooner, I couldn't figure out where to end this chapter! So it's a bit longer than the others so far

“Oh, sweetheart, your hair will be perfect!” Mettaton was wielding a pair of scissors and a waterbottle, his hips out and eyebrow lifted. Frisk sat on Mettaton’s lap, having a new haircut in the bathroom of the cabin they stayed at. 

“Do you want something new with your hair? You know, it’s long enough to look like mine! And everyone wants that!” Mettaton squirted the water into Frisk’s hair, making it damp. Mettaton set the scissors down and said, “I don’t see why I’m holding them. I made Alphys program scissors and combs just for this occasion!” Out of his wrists popped out a tight-teethed comb. He started prying into the knots in Frisk’s hair, and Frisk stayed determined to keep her neck straight and head up despite the yanking on her scalp. 

Napstablook hovered in the corner of the room, back to Mettaton and Frisk, earphones on and music faintly audible from where Frisk sat. It was a new mix that they were working on, and Frisk couldn’t wait to listen to the completed work. Frisk called out, “Blook, what do you think?” 

Blook didn’t respond, so Mettaton called out loudly, “Blooky! Give us your opinion!” 

Blook turned around to look at the two, taking their earphones off by tossing their head, and they murmured, “Oh, oh. Sorry, I didn’t hear you. Anyway, my opinion doesn’t matter.” 

“Blooky Blooky _BLOOKY_ ,” Mettaton exclaimed, holding his arms out on either side of Frisk as if expecting a hug. “Your opinion is precious and dear, dear! Now, get over here and tell me what you think would be cute for our sweetheart.” 

Frisk liked the idea of Mettaton and Blook being her parents, but not in the way she liked the idea of Asgore and Toriel being her parents. Was she preferring one “couple” to be an aunt and uncle figurehead, and another to be a parent figurehead? If so, who was who? 

Either way, Frisk was spending a few days with Mettaton and, by extent, Napstablook, while Toriel and Asgore directed building efforts and other “adult” things that Frisk wasn’t allowed to worry about. Napstablook looked at Mettaton sorrowfully, then murmured, “Oh…” They floated over, asking Mettaton, “What are the options?” 

Mettaton picked up Frisk’s bangs, which went just past her eyes, and said, “We can cut these to their eyebrows, and trim the rest of their hair. We could do long layers, short layers, no layers at all, varying lengths, and all those cute things! Blooky, what do you think would look best for dear Frisk?” 

Blook looked from Frisk to Mettaton, then back to Frisk, before saying, “The bangs sound good. Maybe round them out a bit...some medium layers would make Frisk’s hair a bit bouncier...how does that sound, Frisk?” 

Although Frisk wasn’t sure what to imagine, she chirped, “I like it!” 

“Terrific!” Mettaton exclaimed, pinching Frisk’s cheeks. “Now, I start!” 

Frisk sat still while Mettaton rapidly snipped hair away. Although Frisk hadn’t had her hair cut that often, she was familiar enough to know that Mettaton was going faster than anything she’d experienced before. This was probably due to Mettaton’s scissors being a part of his hands--he must coordinate them so well, he didn’t feel the need to be slow. Cool. 

Blook asked, “Mettaton, what will we make Frisk for lunch?” 

“Something delicious, obviously,” Mettaton breathed, and Frisk imagined him rolling his eyes. “Frisk, what would _you_ like for lunch, dear?” 

“Hm…” Frisk pondered this. “Nice cream!” 

“That _is_ delicious! I was right, Blooky!” Mettaton snipped some hair away while adding, “It’s settled, then! Our baby will have nice cream!” 

Blook tilted their head, murmuring, “But, is the vendor topside yet? I haven’t seen him…” 

“I can call him and order some! Someone will deliver!” 

“Maybe do that now...so it’ll be here by the time Frisk gets hungry.” 

Frisk exclaimed, “I’m hungry now!” just as some hair fell onto her nose. 

“We better hurry now!” Mettaton gasped. “Before precious starts _starving_!” 

“Napstablook, I’ll _starve_!” Frisk exclaimed with a giggle. Blook’s eyes sparkled in amusement, before floating through the front door of the cabin. Where they went, Frisk didn’t know for sure, but she imagined him going to a payphone. 

Frisk swung her legs, hitting Mettaton’s, and asked, “Mettaton, do you like Napstablook?” 

“I love Napstablook! Why do you ask?” 

“I think you should date.” 

Mettaton started chuckling. “Oh, dearie, we’re cousins! I don’t know if humans appreciate that kind of relationship, but monsters don’t!” 

“Oh.” Frisk thought. Well, then, Mettaton and Blook couldn’t be her second set of parents. She listened to the relaxing sound of scissors slicing hair, contemplating who Mettaton could get with. Who else would Frisk like to be a parent? She ran the names of every monster she encountered through her mind. Sans and Papyrus were very sweet, but Sans did not seem to be one of those people interested in Mettaton. Undyne and Alphys would be a cute set of parents--maybe her third set. It’s nice to have spares of everything--tires, socks, and parents. 

“Alright! Done! Time to blow dry!” Mettaton flicked his wrist, a blow dryer popping out, and the hot assault of air hit Frisk’s scalp. She felt her hair fly around her face, bangs lifting and falling on and off of her forehead, alongside the hair touching her neck and ears. After a split second of imagining herself bald, she realized Papyrus and Mettaton might be a nice pair. Although, before Alphys showed up, Frisk imagined Undyne and Papyrus as being the perfect couple, second only to Frisk and Papyrus, of course, Papyrus needed someone. That someone was destined to be Mettaton--after all, both were incredibly fashionable, loved cooking, and were just the sweetest. 

Frisk fought a dorky grin, resisting the urge to ask Mettaton if he liked Papyrus. Frisk had to set them up together, first, and see how they interacted. That would be the only way. 

“I have the nice cream.” Napstablook floated through the front door, some nice cream bars inside their semi-transparent body, 

“What are they doing inside you, Blook?” Frisk gasped. 

“Sorry...they wouldn’t make it through the door if they weren’t in me…” 

Frisk grinned and chirped, “It’s okay! You’re the best! How’d you get here so fast?” 

“Ghosts can go between the underground and, well, here, at will…” Napstablook hovered over, the bars lodged inside like staplers inside jello. “It would have been faster if there wasn’t a line...but there was...and I didn’t want to cut…” 

“You’re so nice!” Frisk exclaimed. Napstablook smiled softly, and Frisk could tell that they appreciated the encouragement. 

Mettaton turned off the blow dryer, patting Frisk’s head. “Done! Sweetheart, your hair looks fantastic!” 

Frisk took this time to dust the clumps of hair off of her shoulders, chest, and legs. Napstablook smiled, saying, “You look great…” 

“Thank you! You suggested it!” 

“Oh...yeah…” 

Hopping off of Mettaton’s lap, Frisk held her hands out and asked, “Please?” 

“Sure…sorry to keep you waiting…” The nice cream bars hovered out of Napstablook, and Frisk grabbed them all to keep them from falling. She thought about how she could unwrap one with both her hands full, then decided to go share the bars with people. It would be wonderful to see their eyes light up when they got a free ice cream bar, and with a compliment, too! 

Frisk wandered to the door, saying, “I’m going to go share the nice cream!” 

“Be safe, dear!” Mettaton called, waving. 

Blook looked from Mettaton to Frisk, asking, “Um...uh, do you think we should go with them? It might be unsafe…” 

Mettaton laughed, exclaiming and striking dramatic poses, “Blooky, dear, this child survived countless fights, incredible odds, and freed monsters from the Undergound! They can manage a walk to town just fine!” 

“Oh...right...I forgot...be safe, Frisk…” 

Frisk skipped outside, feeling her shorter hair bounce on her neck and cheeks. The air was warm, and a soft breeze stirred the treetops. It reminded Frisk of when she initially ran to Mount Ebbott, wearing her onesie like a big nerd, with rain boots on like a fashionable nerd, and felt a mix of comfort and fear from the looming, ancient trees. Part of her felt like they were constants that would be there to support her, like the moon, but another part felt like they were silent antagonists that would bury her body if she were to die, and no one would find her remains. 

Now, the trees were absolutely, positively, her constant friends. 

Frisk skipped along the road, nice cream bars in her hands. The thought that they might end up melting crossed her mind, but then she decided that, if that happened, she would eat the bars and give the wrappers to people who needed encouragement. That meant something, right? 

Frisk started wishing for a watch at about a hundred hours into the walk, but was happy that her feet weren’t tired. After all, she had done a lot of walking on her quest for the sake of humanity and monsters alike. 

After a hundred million hours, the town appeared, and Frisk ran right up to the first person she saw--a man pushing a stroller--and asked, “Would you like some nice cream, sir?” 

The man looked down as she held out a bar to him. He smiled, saying, “That’s so sweet, thank you.” 

He took the nice cream, unwrapped it, and started eating. “Mmm, blueberry.” Frisk stopped him before he went to toss the crinkled wrapper in the nearest trash can, and prompted him to read it. Abiding, he read aloud, “‘You are the best, don’t forget that.’ Aww, thanks, kid. You too.” 

He resumed his walk down the sidewalk, and Frisk wandered into the shop he’d just exited, amazed by the antiques inside. She the woman behind the counter reading a newspaper, so Frisk approached her, asking, “Miss newspaper lady, would you like some nice cream?” 

The woman looked up and set her newspaper down, smiling. “Well, sure, dear.” 

“Be sure to read the wrapper,” Frisk informed the woman as she handed over a bar. The woman unwrapped it and took a bite out of the nice cream, reading aloud with a muffled voice, “‘The sky is blue and it loves you.’” There was a click sound in her throat before she said, “That’s so kind, hon. The sky loves you too.” 

“Thank you! Have a nice day!” Frisk skipped out of the store and down the sidewalk. 

After making two people smile, Frisk found herself unable to control her grin. Hopefully people wouldn’t think she was weird. And if they did, that was alright--being weird wasn’t bad. 

Somehow, Frisk ran into Sans trying to run a newspaper stand. Upon close examination, the newspapers were actually just folded papers with handwritten nonsense on them. Sans spotted Frisk and asked, “hey, kiddo, what do you have there?” 

Frisk dropped a nice cream bar in front of where he rested his head on the stand. He lifted his head up, saying, “business is tough when the internet exists and humans are scared of ya. hmm. what flavor nice cream is this?” 

“The best flavor,” Frisk said, hoping he believed her. She wasn’t sure what his favorite flavor was, but maybe he would try it and think it was. 

Upon unwrapping it and taking a bite, Sans said, “well, this is delicious. pineapple pomegranate is my favorite.” 

He then took the opportunity to read the wrapper, saying, “‘i hope this nice cream was as sweet as your smile.’ aw, shucks, a two-in-one compliment. that’s just nice.” 

Frisk beamed, asking, “Can I spend the night with you and Papyrus?” 

“aren’t you supposed to be spending the night with mettaton and napstablook?” 

“It’s not a big deal.” 

“alright, can’t argue with that. c’mon, kiddo.” He stepped out of the stand and started walking down the street, hands in his coat pockets. Frisk followed him, staring at the back of his smooth, white head. 

“Don’t you get warm in that coat?” Frisk inquired, peering over his shoulder. 

“i’m a skeleton, so i don’t get hot or cold. it’s just here for fashion. and it’s comfy.” 

It wasn’t long before Sans led Frisk to where the new homes were being built. He led Frisk inside one that had two mailboxes out front, and Frisk was assaulted by the smell of burnt pasta. 

The living room wasn’t very big, and the kitchen was connected to the living room itself, so Papyrus was visible upon entrance, back to the door, cooking over the stove. Sans called in, “papyrus, i brought someone.” 

“BROUGHT WHO?!” Papyrus asked, glancing over his shoulder and back forward. After realizing he spotted Frisk, he wheeled around completely, revealing him to be wearing an apron with abs as the design. He threw his mitt-clothed hands in the air, exclaiming, “FRISK! IT’S BEEN SO LONG!” 

“it’s been a day.” Sans informed him. 

“AND THAT’S TOO LONG FOR ME!” 

The tall skeleton bounded over and dropped to his knees to hug Frisk. “AND YOU HAVE A HAIRCUT! YOU’D LOOK BETTER AS A SKELETON, BUT I DIGRESS! YOU LOOK NICE, REGARDLESS!” 

Frisk glanced down at the last nice cream. Sure, she was going to save it for herself, but Papyrus was here, and he was certainly nice enough to deserve it. Because of this, she held it out and said, “Papyrus! I got you something.” 

“CLEARLY, YOUR LOVE FOR I, THE GREAT PAPYRUS, IS THE REASON FOR THIS! BECAUSE I AM, IN FACT, AMAZING ENOUGH TO DESERVE GIFTS! BUT YOU DO NOT HAVE TO SHOW ME YOUR DEVOTION LIKE THIS! BECAUSE I KNOW I AM GREAT!” 

“Just take it,” Frisk said softly, smiling. Papyrus broke away from the hug and took the nice cream. 

After peeling the wrapper, he exclaimed, “SPAGHETTI FLAVOR! HOW DID YOU KNOW?!” 

“Lucky guess.” Huh, Frisk hadn’t planned for it to be spaghetti, but the universe seemed to work in mysterious ways. 

Sans took Frisk to his room, saying, “if you’re staying the night, you can sleep in my room. we don’t have a guest bed yet, but i can sleep anywhere.” 

“YEAH, HE’S THE SLEEPIEST!” 

Frisk smiled, kissing Sans’s cheek, and said, “You’re the best!” 

“HEY! THAT’S WHAT THE WRAPPER TOLD ME!” 

“it told you i was the best?” 

“NO IT SAID _I_ WAS THE BEST!” 

“that’s because you are, bro.” 

“I KNOW, AND THANK YOU!” 

For lunch, Papyrus served up spaghetti. Frisk picked at the least burnt parts, surprisingly not as hungry as she used to be. Part of that could be how she was walking a lot less than she did in the Underground. 

Deciding to stay the night, Frisk called Mettaton and told him where she would be. She contemplated asking him if he liked Papyrus, but chose to wait to bring it up. She wanted to see as many people in relationships as possible, but she hadn’t met every monster yet. She didn’t know if there was anyone else Mettaton and Papyrus would be good with. When Sans was tucking her into bed and Papyrus was reading a very loud story, she thought about Burgerpants. He might not be the most obvious choice for Mettaton, but Frisk was optimistic that they would have a nice, teasing relationship. 

“GOODNIGHT, FRISK!” 

“goodnight, frisk.” 

“Goodnight, Papyrus and Sans.” 

The pillow was soft, the blanket was warm, and the bed was comfy. It wasn’t long until the welcoming embrace of sleep had come upon Frisk. Eyes closed, breathing slow, and heart content, she was ready to sleep. 

_Frisk...you’re forgetting something._

Frisk’s eyes popped open, heart having skipped a beat. The room was dark, no light filtered in through the window, and no sounds of skeleton chatter came from the nearby rooms. So… she was asleep. She dreamed it. 

_There’s something important you have to do…_

Blinking in the darkness, Frisk’s mind wandered to the source of the voice last time she heard it. It was a sort of memory, but it wasn’t Frisk’s. It was Chara, the human that Asgore and Toriel adopted long before Frisk showed up, who had the memories, and somehow Frisk was experiencing them. This wasn’t Asgore’s voice, and this was addressed to Frisk, not Chara. 

Frisk didn’t feel as comfortable, now. She probably wasn’t going back to sleep anytime soon, either. She weighed the costs and benefits of sneaking back to the Underground, and decided that it couldn’t be any more dangerous than fighting Flowey.


	4. Playtime

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Frisk makes it back to the Underground and sets up a match made in shop-keeping.

There was something that the monsters were extremely glad for when they made it topside. Stargazing was something they could only dream about for a time longer than Frisk could imagine, but it was probably something upwards of thirty years. Thirty is a long time, right?

As Frisk snuck outside through the front door, she could see monsters here and there standing on the sidewalks, some with telescopes, many using their own eyes to gaze. It was beautiful to see the love in their eyes, the adoration in their faces, and it made Frisk warm inside. 

The walk was boring. She realized she should’ve left a note for the brothers, but it was too late for that by the time she figured it out. Frisk kept walking deeper into the woods, then, because turning back was for quitters. The mountain got closer, her tough feet didn’t get exhausted like they did the first climb up. Shadows cast by the moon among the darkness caused a twinge of fear to cross Frisk’s mind, but she was determined to get to the bottom of things. 

Although she wondered exactly what the voice was talking about and who it was, she thought about Asriel. He wasn’t alone yet, not really--there were still monsters below the surface, but not for long. And, anyway, being Flowey was lonelier than Frisk could imagine. Whether or not the voice was talking about Asriel, Frisk would not quit on saving him. She saved everyone else. Now, she had to save him. It was only fair. 

The entrance to the Underground was a cavernous opening in the side of the mountain, difficult to see through an overgrowth of lichen and foliage. Frisk pushed her way through the plant life and into probably the most impactful room of her life. This empty black cavern was where the barrier had been, where she had fought Asgore and won, failed to spare him, fought Flowey and won, spared Flowey, got sent back in time, prepared to fight Asgore a second time, meeting all of her friends in one place, meeting Asriel for the first time, fighting Asriel, winning, and changing the future forever. That was a lot to happen to a single child in a single place, but it happened. 

_I’m coming for you, Asriel, and also that mysterious voice_ , Frisk thought, entering the hallway to the throne room. Why did they need so many hallways? So many long corridors had to be inconvenient for monsters. Sure, they appreciated traps and might have at some point had every hallway filled with a trap or two, but still. It had to be time consuming. 

Here was the start of a long walk for answers. Frisk observed the throne room as if she had never seen it before--Toriel’s chair hidden by a cloth, covered in dust, and pushed into a corner, was probably the most subtly sad thing there. The more obviously sad thing was how the golden flowers grew all around, beautiful reminders of death and sorrow, harkening back to a time where joy was abundant and Asriel had a human sibling. Frisk thought back to the other human. Was Chara really evil? Was it possible for a kid to be evil? Frisk knew kids could be mean, but kids had never been Hitler, had they? Hitler was pretty evil, he killed like, a hundred people. Could Chara kill a hundred people? 

Frisk made it all the way to the MTT Resort before seeing new people. Everything was being shut down, packed up, and put onto dollies. Frisk saw Burgerpants through the glass door, and moved to say hi, only to get swamped by monsters saying hello to _her_. 

“Thank you, human! You saved everyone!” some chanted. Others cried, “If it wasn’t for you, I’d be stuck mopping for the rest of my life! Now I can pursue the art making human food!” 

“Happy to help, humble citizens!” Frisk exclaimed, breaking free from the crowd. She exhaled deeply, chest tight. She didn’t enjoy being crowded by so many--it was an awful lot like the first time she met the amalgamates...sure, they were nice, but it was still very frightening. 

Frisk made it outside and saw Burgerpants twitching, struggling to get his lighter to work. His eyes bulged and he had a grimace smile plastered on his face, pointlessly flicking the lighter adjacent to a cigarette. Frisk stood in front of him, tilting her head to the side, and asked, “Do you need help?” 

He sighed shakily, closing his eyes. His face stopped contorting, becoming small, and his shoulders slumped. “No, little buddy, but thank you. I guess I should’ve paid attention to fire magic class while I was in school, eh? Hehe, what’s the greatest hero doing here, talking to a lowlife like me?” 

“Wanted to say hi. Hi.” 

“Hi, little buddy.” 

“You can probably stop selling food when we get to the surface, you know.” 

“Heh...it’s all I know how to do.” 

Frisk tapped his knee, saying, “Nnn-hnn. You give really good advice! You can be a talk show host.” 

The cat-like monster burst into laughter, wiping a tear from his exaggerated face. “Haha, no, little buddy. I’m no Mettaton. I can’t replace him.” 

“You gave way better advice than Mettaton does. And humans have so many channels--you can have your own show. You could co-host a show if you both were liked enough! I bet you’d do great.” 

Burgerpants’s hold on the cigarette between his fingers grew weak, and it slumped before falling to the ground. Frisk remembered how he told her he wanted to be an actor, and to make it big and work with Mettaton. He seemed to remember that, too. His face grew sad and hopeful, as if he was eyeing an uncertain but optimistic future, and he asked, “You think so?” 

“I know so! Be sure to remember me when you make it big, alright?” 

“Thanks, little buddy. I will.” He rubbed Frisk’s head, stepping on his cigarette as if it had been lit, and confessed, “I’ve been meaning to quit. Maybe the empty lighter was a sign? Nah, I don’t believe in that stuff. But I do believe in convenience. Now I don’t have to pay to get it refilled, or buy new cigs! Heheh….heh.” 

He leaned against the wall, folding his arms and tucking his hands into his armpits, and gazed into the dark distance, eyes glossy and vacant. Frisk turned on her heels and began to march away from the resort, spotting the nice cream guy trying to make his way up the stairs with his cart. Without hesitation, Frisk bounded down to him and chirped, “Need help?” 

The blue rabbit’s eyes sparkled, “Well, yes! Thank you! You’ve been such a great help so far--you sure you want to help me?” 

“Positively!” Frisk beamed and gave him a thumbsup. 

In response, Vendor pointed down to the bottom of the cart, and said, “You should push it, while I pull. You think you could lift it up? The flat part grazes the steps.” 

Thinking back to Aaron, Frisk’s eyes sparkled as she rolled her sleeve up and flexed, exclaiming, “Yeah!” 

“Then let’s do it!” Vendor laughed heartily and warmly. Frisk moved down and helped him guide the cart to the top of the stairs, amazed at how heavy it was. Nice cream didn’t weigh that much, did it? 

Through sheer determination, the two were able to bring the cart to the top of the stairs. Vendor knelt down and held his hand out to high five Frisk, chirping, “You’re such great help, little pal!” 

Little pal? Frisk glanced from Vendor to Burgerpants. A light lit up her mind, and she looked from the stoic, high strung cat to the carefree, warm rabbit, and realized what had to be done. 

“Do you have any more nice creams?” Frisk inquired. 

“Sure I do! I just restocked--I probably should’ve waited until I got to the top of the stairs, to be honest, but foresight isn’t my thing, I guess! Haha, what can ya do?” 

“Do you see that guy there?” Frisk asked, pointing to Burgerpants. Vendor glanced at Burgerpants, nodding, and looked back to Frisk wordlessly. “He told me that he think’s you’re super cute and nice, but too nice for a guy like him. He’s too shy and unconfident to ask you out himself, and don’t tell him I told you this, but I think it would mean the world to him if you gave him the sweetest nice cream bar and asked him about his dreams!” 

Vendor’s smile got small, eyes wide, and he blushed with surprise. “R-really? W-well, then, hah! I didn’t think anyone was interested in ol me, but...I think I’ll take you up on that offer, Frisk!” he rubbed Frisk’s head, tousling her new, fluffy hair, and whispered, “I’ll go to him right now, and you make sure no one walks off with my cart, would you, please?” 

Frisk threw him a grin and a thumbsup. He beamed, rifled through his cart, and pulled out one bar that he seemed satisfied with. He picked another at random, sucked air in and puffed out his chest, and began a straight-backed stride to Burgerpants. Frisk watched Vendor’s ears twitch a little and resist dropping down, and Frisk imagined it was like when Frisk went to ask someone she liked out, how it was hard to keep her hands still and eyes forward. 

Frisk ducked behind the cart and peered around as discreetly as possible, and watched the scene unfold. 

Vendor approached Burgerpants, standing still, and was wordless for a moment. Burgerpants glanced at him, glanced away, then finished with a double take as if he hadn’t believed he’d actually seen a monster there. Vendor smiled, chirping, “You look like you could use some delicious nice cream to brighten your day!” 

“Heh, that’d be nice, but I’m broke. Minimum wage is unforgiving.” 

“This is special, for you--on the house!” 

Vendor held out the bar he had searched so diligently for, and his genuine but nervous smile was visible from the angle Frisk watched the two from. Burgerpants’ face shrank in surprise, and he glanced down at the bar as if he’d never seen one before. 

“On the house? Like, as a _gift_?” 

“Well, a gift is giving without expecting anything in return--so, yes!” 

Burgerpants made a tiny smile, then moved his hand out shakily to take it. He unwrapped it with twitchy hands, licking it to murmur, “Raspberry...my favorite. Thank you, Vendor.” 

“Aww, don’t mention it!” Vendor unwrapped his and took a lick, reading his wrapper aloud, “‘You’re just great!’” 

Burgerpants didn’t seem to realize Vendor was reading from the wrapper, his face shrinking into his neck and cheeks growing red. “Heh, never expected to hear anyone say that without a condescending or sarcastic tone.” 

As if to distract himself, Burgerpants started looking at his wrapped. Uncertainly, he read, “‘Love yourself...I love you!’ Whoa...you wrote this?” 

Vendor blushed, glancing aside for a moment, and said, “Well, sure I did! Do...do you like them?” 

“Yeah...I like them a lot...so, you sell nice cream for a living? How’s that going for ya?” Burgerpants laughed lightheartedly, probably expecting a story of woe akin to his own. Frisk was biting her nails in anticipation, face hurting from her growing smile, because holy cow, they were hitting it off! 

“It’s a great business! You can see people’s eyes light up when they have a tasty treat and an inspiring message...it’s spreading joy, and it brings joy to _YOU_ in the process! You should try sometimes, if it doesn’t interfere with what you want to do.” 

“I don’t know what I want to do. I hear I’m good at living life advice. And I like giving it--I feel like I’ve felt enough pain to help others through it.” 

Vendor lit up like a candle, exclaiming, “You should write some on nice cream wrappers! Do you have any advice for me, right now?” 

“Don’t let the odds stop you from doing what you want to. You’re the star of your own movie.” 

Vendor squealed, making Burgerpants jump. Vendor hugged Burgerpants, the cat’s face exploding into a vibrant shade of red, while Vendor exclaimed, “That’s so fantastic, Burgerpants! It’s so honest, from the heart, and people need to be reminded this when they have disproving family and society telling them what to do with _their_ lives!” 

Pulling away from Burgerpants, the MTT employee still hunched as if he was being hugged, Vendor added, “I’ve never met someone as real as you...I don’t know your name. What’s your name?” 

Burgerpants looked aside, then back at Vendor, and stammered, “I-I’m called Burgerpants by most people. By most people, I mean everyone. Sometimes I forget who I was before ‘Burgerpants’.” 

Vendor took a bite from his nice cream bar and chirped, “I’m called Vendor--you’re such an inspiring individual. Do you think we could...spend more time again? I’d love to get to know you better.” 

Blinking rapidly, Burgerpants seemed to slowly process what was being proposed. Finally, he confessed, “I’m not sure what life will be like for me on the surface, but you can have my phone number.” 

Vendor whipped out his phone. “Sounds fantastic! Here, you punch your information into my phone, and I punch mine into yours!” 

Frisk could barely contain herself as they checked to make sure they hadn’t punched in their numbers wrong. Frisk only wished she could follow them for the rest of their lives to observe and micromanage their relationship, making sure it was perfect. 

_If it was meant to be, they’ll manage on their own_ , she decided. Immediately, she wished she could sell that inspirational quote. 

Thinking of the relationship reminded Frisk of Toriel and Asgore, and then of their son. That’s what she was really here for--sure, she could pair up the perfect couple, but the real issue was getting Asriel home. 

_Playtime’s over_ , Frisk told herself. And it was.


	5. Talks in Hands

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Frisk heads to the True Lab for the start of the answers to her questions.

The True Lab had a bunch of answers the last time Frisk had gone in search. Maybe it had more, now? She didn’t have Alphys to ask for answers regarding a monster’s soul, but Frisk knew how to read, and knew scientists kept detailed notes. if Alphys was able to keep Asriel alive as Flowey, surely there must be some way to make Flowey into Asriel.

Frisk skipped steps as she pluged down the stairs toward the lab. At the bottom, she grew aware of the feeling of determination that filled her in certain places throughout the Underground. She herself did not understand it, or how after each death, she returned right back to the place of the last good feeling as if nothing had happened...but life was for learning. She let the strength of determination wash through her bones before she stepped toward the lab door. 

The woosh puffed hot air against Frisk’s face, entering the cooler lab. The doors slid shut behind her as she started speed walking to the elevator door. Remembering how it was broken last time, she hoped it had been fixed. 

Frisk pushed the button to open the door, only to feel a useless clicking. Sighing, she nudged the button and whispered, “It’s okay, you can work for me. I believe in you.” 

_“I believe in you, as well, Frisk.”_

The lights flickered off, plunging Frisk into darkness. There would be a few flashes of light for a second here and there, until the light came on for good, it seemed. Frisk found herself standing in a dim room that reminded her of the True Lab, but wasn’t one she recognized. 

Standing before her was a figure of shadow, its form reminding her of liquid falling in slow motion. It turned around, a dislocated, skeletal head, and boney hands hovering weightlessly in front. The figure had a single expression on its face, like a sad smile an adult gave a child to attempt to reassure them from a tragedy. 

The hands started moving, and Frisk could hear words in her head. They were soft, like whispers, deep and slow but different from Asgore’s. _“You come here looking for what you left behind._

Frisk gulped, nodding. So, this was the source of the voice in her head? She’s seen this figure before. One time, while walking through Waterfall, she’d found a single gray door, and entered out of curiosity. Inside, the creature had been standing. All it took was for Frisk to say, “hi” for it to react with a widening face and vanishing. Now, it had reappeared. 

Frisk gulped, imagining what type of fight it would give her. She chirped as positively as possible, “I want to bring Asriel back.” 

The thing nodded, then moved its hands. _“Asriel is a flower, without a soul, and cannot be truly brought back. Take the flower to the surface.”_

“That’s not good enough!” Frisk exclaimed. 

The being tilted its head before starting to slide around Frisk and out of the room. She turned and watched it pass through the door. She followed, needing to open the door, and saw it heading down the hallway to the left. Obviously, she continued to follow. 

The dark, gray walls loomed, seeming to head forever into the distance and loom forever upward to a ceiling endlessly out of reach. Frisk’s stomach started to churn, like when she drank enough water that she could feel it slosh around in her tummy. 

_“Be not afraid, young one,”_ the voice said. The being did not turn around to say it, and the fact that it went straight into her head disturbed Frisk. _“You will have your answers soon enough, although I cannot stop you from asking new questions.”_

The hallway walls seemed to change around Frisk, shaking like jello, before popping into the shape of a room. In the center was the monster, back to Frisk, and just past it, was a machine shaped like Flowey’s fleshy mouth when he turned into a disgusting amalgamation post human-soul-absorption. Frisk’s heart skipped a beat and she gasped before noticing it was just a machine, not Flowey. 

_“Here, you will find your answers. At least, some of them.”_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm sorry I wasn't posting any new chapters over the break, and that this one is short.


	6. Explain Pain

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> >FIGHT >ACT >ITEM >MERCY

Frisk watched the monster slink away. _“Child, find your answers by yourself. It is your quest, not mine. This area is full of answers, if you ask the right questions.”_

Knowing he would have the answers, Frisk bounded after him. About a step away from him, Frisk felt her soul dragged into a fight. Blinking, she squared against the monster, noticing that it hadn’t changed a bit--it was still monochromatic, unlike other monsters that usually had colors in the normal world. 

Frisk checked the monster and saw that his name was W.D. Gaster, with a Def. 0 and Attck .0001. After her check was over, a liquid dripped off of the ceiling and onto her shoulder. Glancing at it, Frisk knocked it off, only to have more globs drop onto her. Looking up, she saw that the entire ceiling was an oozing mass, and her breath caught in her throat before it dropped onto her. She found herself smothered by the sticky, gooey substance, smelling like a mix of pasta and motor oil. Acting on her like a blue soul did, she was dragged to the floor and slowly drowned. 

Her health was ticked away fraction by fraction while she was in the liquid, and she realized that, while his attack might not have been strong, there was too much here to treat it as a joke. Clawing to the surface, she popped her head out and sucked in a deep breath of air. 

The moment was over, and she clutched her chest, feeling a bit of health come back thanks to her apron. She felt that her actions could be to ask him about science, to ask him about determination, to ask him about the DT EXtraction Machine, and to ask about skeletons. 

Frisk took a deep breath before asking, “What is determination?” 

Gaster was expressionless as the floor around Frisk became liquidy, like quick sand, and slowly began to sink her down. Unlike quicksand, she felt it starting to turn her into liquid, sucking her down. She looked down at herself and saw her usual red glow had become black. 

_“Your soul is black.”_

How was she going to get out of this? She felt her health drain bit by bit. There was no way to dodge these attacks, and she was slowly slipping away. 

This was it. She felt the last bit of health tick away, and an emptiness filled her chest. It took only a moment of feeling absent, of lacking any physical being, until she felt her body throw itself together. Her chest was filled with strength and heat, and her body became physical again. The monster jolted a bit, eyes wider, as he said, _“Determination is what keeps a soul alive, against all odds.”_

Frisk thought through the questions she could ask. “How does science improve the world?” 

Wires and tubes sprang from the ground, Frisk jumping side to side to dodge them. Worse than that--the tubes and wires made arches that she had to avoid, and when they hit the ground, debris flew. Her health was eroded as she ran into tubes, was grazed by tile pieces, and wires shocked her. The assault was over faster than she expected, and despite having lost most of her health, she felt a bit come back because of the apron. 

_“Science makes many things possible. Science means medicines for otherwise deadly diseases, bodies for otherwise bodiless monsters, and maybe even harness the power of the soul.”_

She contemplated using her bandaid this turn, but because she didn’t even die when her last health was drained not too long ago, she decided to ask another question. “What was the DT EXtraction Machine?” 

Frisk watched as her soul became black. She started to turn into a liquid, to merge with the puddle below her. She dripped and oozed like slime, her health ticked away. It took only a few seconds for her to die, this time, and to have her soul come back together. 

_“The Determination Extraction Machine is what merges the power of determination and science together. In theory, if you take the determination from one soul, a human soul, and put into a soul lacking determination, a monster soul, then the monster will be determined and gain the will to live. Science, and the world, is not as simple as theory is.”_

Last question. “What do you know about skeletons?” 

The air grew still. Gaster was as still as ever, until his eyes darted from left to right, then to Frisk. _“What do you mean...skeletons? Skeleton...monsters? I am not a skeleton...although some humans that fell down thought I was. I am just a skeletal figure. There is a difference, a distinction. I was still around, still...physical...when Asriel and Chara were alive. I knew them. Not personally, for I was their father’s employee, but I was aware of their presence. Asgore was devastated when they died. I cannot explain the pain. He desperately wanted to bring them back...bring them both back. Chara was determined, but Asriel was not, and when Asriel’s soul-empowered body gave out...there was just dust. If he was given determination, could he live?”_

Gaster lowered his head. His liquidy form moved involuntarily, like a lava lamp or melting icicle, but he was still. _“Not long after the deaths, and before Asgore decided to harvest human souls and Toriel exiled herself to the ruins, two humans--one tall and skinny, the other short and round--fell down. I met them, brought them to my lab, and decided to experiment on them. They had determination--they were both human--so it shouldn’t do them harm. I wasn’t willing to expose a monster to my experiment, so I used myself as a test subject. I had them by the experimental Determination Extraction Machine, turned it on, and hoped for the best. Instead, I started growing...slimy. I panicked, stumbled from where I was, and into the humans. Their...their skin, and muscles, got stuck in my slime, as I pulled away. They were stuck on me, and the three of us fell into the machine. I became aware that they had become skeleton monsters, just appearing, with no memories of themselves. I, myself, had lost my form, my body, my shape, my voice, my mind.”_

Gaster started slithering through the room and into a hallway that appeared before him. Frisk followed and saw the machine she first saw in the True Lab, the form similar to Flowey’s nightmare figure. _“Apparently, one of the humans--the skeletons, kept the ability to SAVE, to be aware of the timeline, but could not manipulate it as they could have before--like you do, when you die and come back. They could teleport, by using their save files, but couldn’t come back in the event of death. With this experiment, with the outcome, with the two humans becoming skeleton monsters, I theorize that determination is stored within a human’s bones, and that is how, after decay, a skeleton is left behind. Well, I was unable to record these findings, so when Alphys took over my job...she started from scratch. Instead of trying to use a human’s bones, she used a flower. And that is where Asriel comes in, as Flowey.”_

Frisk stood before a row of potted flowers. _“Alphys was talented with robotics. That is why Flowey became a huge, machine-like mass--she tried combining the determination, the dust, and a mechanical form.”_

“What do I do to bring back Asriel?” Frisk asked. “And not as a potted flower--I want Asriel back, not Flowey.” 

_“We don’t always get what we want.”_

“We don’t all have determination, either!” Frisk exclaimed. Gaster sighed, and Frisk’s patience wore thin.


	7. Roots

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Frisk is both determined and desperate.

Frisk ran her tongue along her bottom gums. She lost one of her baby teeth when she fell down, not too many days ago. Wow, had it only been a few days? She spent about five days in the Underground, maybe four days back above, and this was a new day. Ten days ago, she lost what was probably her last baby tooth, maybe second to last. She remembered crying because of the blood where her bottom right canine was, wandering and rather spitting the blood out than swallow it. Then, Toriel used her sleeve to wipe away Frisk’s blood. 

Following Gaster, Frisk wondered if monsters grew in teeth. She could feel the tiny protrusion from the gum, the very corner of a tooth ready to show up. It felt like it was coming up at an angle--like all her other teeth. She would need braces. Hopefully braces came in purple. 

“Where are you leading me?” Frisk inquired. 

_“Outside, to let you solve the problem yourself.”_ The wall before Gaster started to quiver, becoming a door. He slithered through, and Frisk followed. On the other side, Frisk found herself outside an elevator in the Hotland. There were gray, shadowy monster figures, frozen and twitching in time, here and there. _“You asked the questions. You have the answers. Now, solve the problem. You have what you need, and what you don’t have yet, you will.”_

Gaster vanished as if Frisk had blinked him away. The other monsters vanished, and the world seemed a little brighter, more warmly colored. Frisk sighed and started walking in the direction of Alphys’s lab, remembering the row of flowers before a mirrored wall. She would find a pot and a spade and _spit_ determination on potted Flowey if it was needed. 

Inside, she found the elevator now functional. Gaster must’ve done that--how nice! Frisk went down and wandered the hallways until she could find the hallway with the flowers. The lab was lonelier now than it had been when the amalgamates were down here. Frisk was happy that they had returned to their families, but now, Frisk felt especially alone. 

She found the hallway and, near the end of it, a spade and a few empty pots. She grabbed a pot and the spade and began her journey to the Ruins, where she found find Flowey and physically remove him from the dirt. 

“We don’t always get what we want, blah blah blah nenene, you know what? I’m DETERMINED! I will do this!” Frisk muttered and exclaimed to herself as she wandered through the Hotlands. She walked down the stairs that led to the river, finding the Riverperson there. 

Frisk hopped onto the boat and the Riverperson took off, murmuring with an echoing voice, “Tra la la. Never forget your roots. Tra la la.” 

They arrived at Snowdin, and Frisk romped through the knee-deep snow, mentally preparing herself for the long and empty walk ahead of her.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So sorry it took so long to upload and that it's not as long as I wanted! Thank you for your comments, it's really encouraging!


	8. Change

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Frisk starts to understand that change is a big thing.

The trees loomed ever massively on either side of her, straight and rigid like tombstones. Frisk gulped, staring straight ahead as she walked past where she first met Sans. This was fine. The purple door was visible at the end of the long walk before her, and she fought the urge to speedwalk to it. For some reason, she was anxious, but for some other reason, she felt she shouldn’t rush reaching her destination. Maybe it was because a big change would come, and you should value your life before the change while you have the chance? After all, Frisk had never contemplated appreciating her life before becoming an ambassador for monsters and listening to adults argue all day, but that’s her new life. 

At the door, Frisk felt her cold breath catch in her throat. She was going to see Flowey again, and she was going to bring Asriel home. Toriel didn’t know, Asgore didn’t know, and there were sure to be monsters that didn’t even know who Asriel was. Anxiously, she ran her tongue over the empty spot where her gums were tender. Did the tooth fairy also get monster teeth? Now, Frisk was old enough to know that Santa wasn’t real, but having encountered monsters like Whimsum, she was optimistic that the money she found under her pillow came from a special place. 

“Now or never,” she whispered to herself as she opened the door. The warm air hit her and sent chills down her spine. Frisk wasn’t sure how the temperature difference worked, between the Ruins and the snowy area--the town was Snowdin, but what was the rest of the cold place?--but she imagined Toriel was the kind of mom to install heaters everywhere she could. If monsters had TV, they had to have heaters and air conditioners, so that was probably why the Ruins were nice and comfortable. 

Frisk closed the door behind her and walked forward. She felt her heart racing in her chest, and she had to remind herself that everything would be fine. Change is good, change is necessary. With determination on her side, she would be fine. 

She was sure to save her determination at the place where the mouse finally got the cheese. There was no such thing as “too safe.” Finally, she found herself at the beginning, where it all started. The hole cast a shaft of light onto the flowers Frisk had fallen on, illuminating some unsettled dust. 

Frisk approached the flowers, thinking back to the tooth fairy. That was her last tooth, she was pretty sure. She had to catch the tooth fairy, so she needed that tooth. Frisk patted through the flowers, finding stone after stone, pebble after pebble, until she felt what she was sure was a tooth. 

Lifting her hand up, she saw the white and bloody object. Grinning, Frisk put it in her inventory. Maybe, because it marked such an important day in her life, she would make it into a necklace or something, rather than let the tooth fairy get it for some small change. 

“Howdy!” 

Frisk froze. 

“I understand that you didn’t reset everything, but maybe you could have considered ending it where it should have. I guess determination goes a long way--our story was supposed to end when everyone left.”


	9. Change

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> There are always people who oppose change.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Special mention goes to xKinuki and TheWarriorBear for supporting me in my endeavors! I really love the comments and support

Frisk turned around to face the yellow flower. It had a gentle smile that made her suspicious. Flowey laughed and chirped, “I see you don’t trust me! I don’t see why not--you’re the one who is untrustworthy.” His face drooped and his tone got sour. “I don’t know how you did it. We ended it. Everyone left. Everyone was satisfied, happy.” 

“Not you,” Frisk murmured. 

Flowey exploded with laughter, then grinned too wide for his face, eye sockets growing hollow. “My happiness doesn’t matter. Me? Need to be happy? No! I don’t matter. I’m unimportant, soulless, hopeless! I tried to kill you! I manipulated your SAVE file, tried to absorb your friends….I don’t deserve happiness! Now go, before I take it all away, again.” 

Frisk took a step toward the flower. “You can be happy. You can be happy again. Everyone deserves to be happy.” 

“That’s not true!” Flowey shouted. “I’m a monster, and not the good kind! Now leave, before you screw everything up! The story was supposed to end when you reached the surface, everyone was going to be happy, and nothing bad could happen after you ended the game! Now there’s a chance everything can go wrong! Go!” 

Taking a deep breath, Frisk stepped forward. She felt her soul leave her body, and battle started. 

Now was her chance. She would not dilly dally. She could not spare or flee, so she ACTED. Frisk used the spade and lunged forward with her physical self. Flowey’s eyes widened and his jaw dropped, exclaiming, “YOU CAN’T DO THAT, YOU HAVE TO USE YOUR SOUL!” 

Frisk scooped the flower right out of the ground, a chunk of dirt and roots flying with him. His face was frozen in the look of surprise and betrayal as Frisk caught his stem in her left hand. She stuffed him into the pot, ignoring his angry cries and screams. 

“YOU CAN’T DO THAT! THIS ISN’T HOW IT WORKS! YOU CAN’T! I AM A POWERFUL, SOULLESS ENTITY WITH THE POWER TO CHANGE YOUR SAVES AT WILL! YOU DON’T! JUST! PUT ME IN A CERAMIC POT!” 

Ignoring him, Frisk tucked him under her arm and marched back the way she came. Flowey writhed and twisted, shouting at the sky and in Frisk’s face. She even felt some spittle hit her cheek and maybe even land in her eye, but that was alright. 

The walk was long and frustrating. Frisk handled it like a saint, but Flowey, being a flower, did not suffer from a sore throat or exhaustion. He screamed the whole way, saying things like, “OH, I SEE, YOU’RE GOING TO IGNORE ME, WELL, YOU COULD’VE IGNORED ME BY LEAVING! IT’S EASIER TO IGNORE SOMEONE IF YOU AVOID THEM!” 

Frisk was only silent because she couldn’t find any words, and couldn’t find a place to interject. She wasn’t even sure if Flowey was technically finishing any sentences or was just running on. 

The few monsters still in Snowdin paid little attention, which Frisk found comforting and odd. They weren’t judging Flowey, but he was a peculiar sight that should warrant a few glances. When Frisk found the Riverperson, she had the first response. 

“Tralala. Would you and your friend like a ride? Well, maybe just you. He doesn’t seem like he likes many things.” 

Flowey flew further off the handle, screaming, “OH, I LIKE MANY THINGS! I LIKE--I LIKE--I--I DON’T KNOW WHAT I LIKE AT THE MOMENT BUT I KNOW THERE ARE THINGS! MANY THINGS!” 

Frisk hopped on the boat, staggering a bit. The Riverperson reached a hand out and steadied Frisk by the shoulder. The sleeve of the cloak slid down slightly, allowing Frisk to see a skeletal hand. 

The boat started moving, without Frisk even saying where she wanted to go. “Tra...la...la. Things are changing and becoming unrecognizable, but in some ways, we’re going back the way we came. Tra…” 

Slowing to a halt at Hotland, the Riverperson turned their head to look in Frisk’s direction, giving Frisk a glimpse of a glowing eye. Frisk hopped off, and before she could say thanks, the Riverperson was gone. 

Flowey was absolutely silent, and when Frisk looked at him, she saw his mouth small and eyes big. She looked out to the river, seeing not even the smallest ripple to show that the Riverperson had been there. Frisk thought to herself how odd it was that the Riverperson was always waiting there, right where Frisk needed them, whenever she needed them. 

Sniffing in the dry, hot air, Frisk marched toward the lab, keeping an eye on Flowey as she did. She saw the discomfort on his face, and thought she even saw a moment where he looked like a sad Asriel. 

Feeling something drop in her stomach, Frisk wondered how good of an idea this was. Flowey looked honestly concerned or scared, but the fact that he was Asriel for a moment encouraged her. This was close. 

Frisk entered the working elevator, watching Flowey closely as they travelled down. His stem was hunched and his eyes narrowed, shifting his gaze side to side. The elevator jerked as it hit the bottom, and the doors slid open with a whoosh. Frisk stepped out, surprised to hear Flowey murmur, “You know, nothing is going to change. The only change you can find is your mind--if you just change your mind, I can reset the timeline back to when the game ended. You’ll be happy, fulfilled, and so will everyone else.” 

Although she did not seriously consider it, Frisk thought of Burgerpants and Nice Cream Vendor, and realized that enough had changed that change was imminent. 

“No,” Frisk whispered. 

“What?” 

“I’ve seen change. I’ve been through change. You’re going to change, too, Asriel.” 

“A-As-Asr...THAT’S NOT MY NAME!” 

_It will be, again, as soon as possible,_ Frisk thought with a heavy sigh. 

She wandered down the True Lab, tuning out Flowey’s protests. She wandered past the room of beds, filled with an overwhelming sense of determination, and entered the room with the DT EXtraction machine. 

Inside, W.D. Gaster was standing, back to Frisk, facing the machine. His head turned ever so slightly so that he peered over his shoulder. _“I see you’re still convinced you can bring things back to the way they were. I suppose it won’t hurt to try.”_


	10. Small moments

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This change would be the start of something new.

Frisk had her eyes closed tightly, her hand squeezing another. She walked forward blindly, but confidently, past the barrier. Her arm was behind her, holding a hand connected to an outstretched arm. She led the owner of the hand, opening her eyes to see a setting sun. She looked over her shoulder at the small, goat-like child behind her, his tears reflecting the gold of the setting sun. 

A voice came from in front of Frisk, only after she had her head turned, and when she looked back, she saw Toriel, Asgore, Papyrus, and Sans running toward them. 

“We were so worried, my child! Where have you--” 

Toriel stopped in her tracks, and Asgore’s breath caught in his throat audibly. Papyrus was unfazed until he noticed the surprise on Toriel’s and Asgore’s faces and body language, not seeming to understand the weight behind who Frisk held hands with. Sans, however, glanced side to side nervously, seeming to know what was going on but refusing to acknowledge it. 

“Asriel...is that really you?” Toriel whispered breathlessly, kneeling in front of Frisk and the small goat child. 

Squeezing Frisk’s hand tightly, the child murmured, “Yes, Momma. Frisk brought me back.” 

Toriel wrapped her arms around the two children, sobbing, and Asgore knelt down to hug the three, crying as well. 

“Asriel,” Asgore gasped. “My son, you’re home, at last!” 

Frisk closed her eyes, already beginning to feel the changes sink into place. She ran her tongue along the gap in her teeth.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm sorry it's a lot shorter than the usual ones, but I wanted a single chapter to be devoted to a short reunion, and that kept ending up being short in my revisions. Don't worry, next chapters will be longer, and will include what happened between chapter 9 and 10.


	11. Sheepish

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The first of many days it will take to adjust to the new status quo.

Frisk didn’t know how tired she was until she was carried home in Papyrus’s arms. Eyelids drooping, she watched Toriel and Asgore as they walked ahead, Toriel holding Asriel and Asgore holding his son’s hand. 

_Was I right to do this?_ Frisk imagined all the things that would change. Enough had changed already, but it didn’t make the future less daunting to think about. 

Frisk promised herself to only close her eyes for a moment, but when she opened them, she was in her bed at Toriel’s house, Asriel dozing peacefully next to her. His fur reminded her of cotton candy, and she remembered a plush sheep she had before she went into the Underground. She wanted to wake Asriel and ask him how he was doing, but he probably needed sleep. 

As carefully as possible, to not disturb Asriel, she wiggled out from under the cover and off of the bed. Leaving the room and being careful to not let the door squeak, she peered down the hallway. Asgore and Toriel were at the dining room table, empty plates in front of them, murmuring softly. 

Frisk crept toward them, yawning. They looked her way, and Asgore cooed, “Oh, you don’t need to be up so early. Go back and sleep in.” 

“I’m not tired anymore,” Frisk confessed. 

Toriel smiled and said, “Well, I suppose all the excitement from yesterday might still be in your blood. Come here, my child.” 

Frisk wandered over and let Toriel pull her onto her lap. Frisk rubbed her eyes, trying to pay attention to the monster parents as they spoke. 

“There is no way to repay you for what you’ve done for the monsters,” Asgore told her softly, “and for our family. You’re a hero, Frisk, and no words can express our gratitude and love for you.” 

“You’re welcome,” was all Frisk could muster. 

Toriel chuckled and bounced her knee, murmuring, “You’re so cute and humble. How about...how about you go back into your room for now, okay? So Asriel doesn’t wake up alone while we talk about...things.” 

Frisk nodded and hopped off of Toriel’s lap. She found her way back to the room, catching Asriel with his eyes open for a moment, then squeezing them shut. Frisk smiled and whispered, “You don’t need to pretend to sleep. How are you feeling?” 

Asriel opened his eyes slowly. He sighed, sitting up in bed and pushing the covers off of his legs, and mumbled, “I-I feel...a little strange. It’s been so long since I was like this last.” 

He hopped off of the bed, glanced sheepishly at the floor, then up at Frisk. “That was very nice and brave of you. I don’t think I would’ve saved me, if I was you. Do you...uh...wanna see a character idea I have?” 

“Yeah,” Frisk nodded. Asriel smiled, then moved over to the notebook lying on the floor, crayons beside it. He tore out a page and started coloring with the purple crayon, glancing at Frisk as she sat down next to him. 

“This character--they, they’re a human, and they can time travel, and they save everyone by time travelling to the beginning of the day after they go to bed, so they can fix anything that went wrong. They work really hard to make sure everyone is happy.” 

Frisk looked down at the human, drawn with a purple outfit and yellow skin, and chirped, “That’s really cool. What’s their name?” 

“I haven’t figured it out yet. I don’t think names are that important, anyway. How about you come up with a name?” 

The human looked at the drawing. Above the character, Asriel wrote “Character: time traveler.” Frisk tilted her head before saying, “How about….‘Chara’ for ‘Character.’” 

Asriel blinked. “C-Chara? Uh….that’s clever. Okay...Chara it is.” He wrote “Name: Chara” underneath the feet of the character. 

“Thank you, Frisk,” Asriel murmured. “I like this one a lot.” 

“So will your parents. You should show them.” 

“Y-Yeah? You think so?” Asriel picked up the paper and looked down on it. “They always did like my stories and characters. Okay...I’ll go show them.” 

He rose to his feet and wandered to the bedroom door. Before opening it, he ran back and gave Frisk a kiss on the cheek, then ran away. Frisk felt her face grow hot, and she sat still for a few moments, before placing her hand on her cheek.


	12. The Ship Sails

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Frisk and Asriel go out to make friends

Frisk held Asriel’s hand as she led him down the sidewalk. Toriel and Asgore encouraged them to go out and play while they had “adult talk.” Frisk imagined it probably had to do with them figuring out how to explain everything that had changed. Asriel looked around in awe, from the roofs of houses to the dashed line on the road, and murmured, “Wow, the human world is nothing like I imagined it. I mean, it has some things--like more humans--but it’s also...pretty similar to the Underground.” 

Frisk nodded, saying, “The humans are pretty nice. They’re shy, but the ones that talk to you are nice.” 

“That’s good,” Asriel murmured. “I don’t wanna be yelled at, or anything…” 

“It’s okay,” Frisk said, swinging her arm back and forth with Asriel’s hand in hers. “No one will yell. There’s a playground up here I think you’ll like, so maybe there will be yelling of _joy_.” 

Asriel’s face lit up with a smile. They turned the corner and found a park with a playground. The playground part had springy animals to ride, monkey bars, slides, and a row of swings, and to the side was a clearing with a walking area around it. Some older humans were in the empty grassy area with a volleyball, and were talking to a monster about another way they could play it. 

“Now, instead of getting it over the net or line to be bounced back, the goal is to get it over the line. So there’s an opposing team in front of it that tries to knock it away before it can get over it. They can only face forward, at the team tossing the ball toward the line.” 

The human with the ball was nodding his head while listening. “Yeah, that sounds fun. We’ll play a little and you tell us if we’re doing it right, okay?” 

Frisk and Asriel wandered to the playground and to the swingset. They both hopped on the tire swing, legs in the center, and faced each other. 

“You...you really are a hero,” Asriel whispered. “I, I don’t think I could ever do anything as cool as you have. Not even the God of Hyperdeath is that cool.” 

“Nuh uh,” Frisk said, shaking her head as she swung her legs back and forth. “The God of Hyperdeath is really cool. And so is Chara.” 

“Chara?” He gasped, then drooped his shoulders. “Oh, yeah, my character. I-I like Chara, you picked a good name.” 

“Thank you,” Frisk murmured. They swung their legs so that the swing started to sway back and forth. Frisk asked, “Do you remember much?” 

“Not really, no...sorry…” Asriel sighed and looked at his feet. “I remember some things about being a flower, and being really mean to everyone for no reason. I remember you picking me up and carrying me, and how determined you were to not let me go. But that’s...that’s basically all of it.” 

Frisk nodded. “That’s okay.” 

Asriel looked at something over Frisk’s shoulder, so she turned her head to see what it was. She felt herself enter a battle sequence upon seeing a group of human children standing there. 

One human said, “We want the swing, so you should get off and let us have our turn.” 

Instead of this being an attack, it was like when some monsters, instead of fighting, just stood there or danced. The humans just stood still. Acting on this, Frisk said, “This is a really big tire, you can fit on it with us.” 

A different human said, “But, then we have to sit next to the monster.” 

“Why don’t you want to sit next to a monster? He can’t help being a monster any more than you can help being a human. He just wants to have fun and be friends--he hasn’t done anything wrong.” Frisk felt this was an effective argument. 

The human children look from one another, until one says, “Well, my mom said monsters were dangerous and stay away.” 

Frisk pointed to the older humans playing with a monster--now with another monster joining in--and said, “Look, they’re having fun and playing a new game. Those monsters aren’t being dangerous, and neither is Asriel.” 

One of the humans looked at the group and said, “Huh, my brother is playing over there. He’s a scaredy-cat--I don’t think he would play with a monster if it was dangerous.” 

The first human said, “I guess it’s okay to sit next to you guys. Can you scoot over so we can all fit?” 

“Yeah!” Frisk chirped and scooted next to Asriel. The human children all climbed onto the tire swing and got elbow-to-elbow and shoulder-to-shoulder with everyone. 

One of the humans bounced a little and said, “Ooh, ooh, I like to close my eyes and swing on this to get very high, and I imagine I’m a dragon!” 

“Cool!” Asriel said. “Can we try that?” 

“Yeah!” All the humans exclaimed. Everyone started swinging themselves side to side, building momentum on the swing. Frisk closed her eyes and felt the rush of wind through her hair on the left side of her face, then on the right side of her face. Her stomach rolled a little, and instead of imagining herself on a dragon, she felt like she was on a boat, being tossed around in a stormy sea. 

Asriel squeaked to her side, then grabbed her hand where it rested on the one of the chains that held the tire up. He whispered, “I almost fell off!” 

“I got you,” Frisk said, opening her eyes. She saw Asriel’s eyes squeezed tightly shut, shoulders bunched, but he was grinning and cheering with the others when the tire would get high and drop back down. Frisk glanced at his soft hand over hers, feeling her cheeks grow warm. She was on a boat, and Asriel was her first mate.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Honestly I didn't notice the "ship" pun until I got to the line "first mate" and I felt like the cleverest person with a punny subconscious lol. Hope you enjoyed it! They only get cuter


	13. Labelless

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Frisk deals with some identity issues.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the unannounced hiatus! I was dealing with some health issues, still working through them, but whateverhereyougoenjoy

After migrating from the tire swing to the jungle gym, the older humans, older siblings, made their way over to the human kids. One chirped, “Good to see you’re making friends.”

One human child said, “Oh, this is Frisk--she’s nice, and this is Athreal, he’s cool, and look! He’s soft like cotton balls.” 

The kid reached over and touched Asriel’s ear, the white fur sinking like a cushion. Nodding slowly, the teen said, “Good, good, well, lunch is soon, so we better go home.” 

“Awww,” the kid moaned. “Do I _have_ to?” 

“Yeah, champ, we gotta go.” The guy grabbed his little brother’s hand, before cooing, “And Mom will be glad to hear you’ve got a girlfriend.” 

“Ewwwww,” the kid grimaced. “That’s bisgrusting! Girls are gross and have cooties, I only hang out with her because she’s with a boy.” 

What? Frisk couldn’t grasp what the kid was saying. She hadn’t even spent that long in the Underground, but now she realized...humans treated her differently than monsters did. Monsters only gave her the label ‘human’ and, while a few might have tried to kill her, they were all happy to be her friend after they got over it. Frisk couldn’t even label herself as anything other than ‘human’ anymore… 

Slowly, all the kids and siblings migrated one by one, leaving Asriel and Frisk alone. Frisk looked at her dirt-caked hands, pondering what the kid had said. Her hands didn’t look any different from his--heck, Asriel was far more different from the boy than Frisk was, but...really? 

“Y-you okay?” Asriel murmured. “You...look sad.” 

Frisk lifted her head up at Asriel and asked, “Am, am I not like the other humans?” 

Asriel looked at the humans as they walked away, then back at Frisk. “Not that I can tell.” 

When the two found their way back home, to Asgore and Toriel, the parents were delighted to hear Asriel tell them all about the day he and Frisk had, while eating a good, hearty meal. Frisk was quiet, as usual, but her shoulders slumped and her breaths were a bit heavier than usual. Both parents picked up on it, and despite still not getting along quite as well as they would have before everything bad happened, they both gently asked, “Frisk, dear, what’s wrong?” 

Toriel observed that she hadn’t eaten much, and Asgore commented on her body language. Feeling a little cornered, Frisk pulled her feet up onto the chair and hugged her knees, saying nothing. 

Asriel looked at Frisk, then to his parents, before saying, “I think Frisk is sad because the humans didn’t want to play with her.” 

“What?” Toriel asked. “Why not?” 

“They called Frisk a girl,” Asriel murmured. “I, I don’t see what’s so wrong about it...but they acted like a girl can’t be friends with boys...or something.” 

Asgore huffed. “Nonsense! Anyone can befriend anyone, no matter their clothes, their shape, the color of their furs or scales--if they have fur or scales….Not only do humans judge monsters, they judge each other? Ridiculous!” 

“Gory,” Toriel sighed, “Don’t get too worked up. Now, Frisk, is this bothering you?” 

“Yeah…” she mumbled. She was quiet for a few moments, before saying, “No one called me a girl in the Underground. No one said I couldn’t spare them because I was a girl, or something. I was just...a human.” 

“And you still are!” Asgore exclaimed. “So, you’re saying you don’t feel like a girl?” 

“I...I don’t think so.” 

“Do you feel like a boy?” 

“Not really.” 

“Then you’re just Frisk.” Asgore said, nodding frankly. “That settles it! Next time a kid tries to say you’re one or the other, you tell them, ‘I’m Frisk, and I don’t play with people who judge books by covers.’” 

Frisk smiled, and was a bit happier to eat the food. _Their_ food. 

A nice day of watching TV in the living room went by, supper came and went, and bedtime came. When Frisk and Asriel went to bed, Frisk whispered, “Thank you. For telling them, earlier. I was too sad to talk.” 

“You’re...you’re welcome, Frisk,” Asriel whispered back. “I-I can never help you as much as you helped me, but I...I wanted to help, even a little.” 

“You did,” Frisk murmured, smiling. After a few moments, with the soft pink nightlight to illuminate the room, Frisk hopped out of bed, scurried over, and gave Asriel’s forehead a smooch. “I didn’t give you cooties, did I?” 

Asriel blushed, faintly visible in the dimness, and stammered, “N-no...you’re a Frisk, and Frisk doesn’t give cooties…” 

When Frisk got back into bed, they drifted into an easy sleep despite the butterflies in their tummy.


End file.
